


Never a Dull Night

by IsisKitsune



Series: Twilight is for Sookers [38]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Morbius: The Living Vampire
Genre: Accidents, Gen, Guest Stars, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Patient of the Week, problem patients, should I ruin the surprise guest star?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-06 02:26:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18841747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsisKitsune/pseuds/IsisKitsune
Summary: Calm night...Until an apparent attempted suicide came in, he's got fight to him.





	Never a Dull Night

Michael was in ICU, working with a new patient, dealing with prepping them to be moved into permanent care. They'd stabilized and pronounced them comatose, non responsive, and moved them in as a temporary hold until they could get them shifted to a proper room or the family can move them (should they chose to push them into private in home care or something of that nature) when he heard Claire's voice, “MICHAEL!”

He dropped the cloth he'd had and bolted down the hall, “Claire?!” He skidded into the swarm in time to see security light the man up with tasers, and it didn't even slow him down. “Move!”

“Michael, PCP.”

“Fuck, move!” He heard a scream, he met the charging man half way, slamming a hand into his chest with enough force to lift him off the ground and slammed him back onto the bed. “Stop,” the man was twitching, eyes wild, “Fuck! Get a ventilator going!”

“What happened?”

“I broke his rib cage, he can't breathe.”

“Punctured lung?”

“It's, I can't tell it's all, it's broken glass to me.”

“Move,” Claire screamed at the stunned staffed who finally scattered for supplies, “Did you break his spine?”

“I, I don't know... shattered, shattered bone, wheeze, I can't see it.”

“Sir, I need you to raise your arm.”

Michael was panicked, not wanting to move his hand, not wanting to risk any shifting causing it to be worse. His eyes darted when he saw the arm raise. “He can.”

“Alright, move your foot.”

Michael's eyes darted, “It twitched.”

“Sir, lift your leg.” Claire was watching at the heel lifted off the bed, making her sigh in relief. “He's got limb movement.”

“I... I shattered his ribcage.”

“He would have shattered more than that.”

Claire finally was able to get him to lift his hand away as the others swarmed to get the man breathing properly again. She grabbed his wrist as he backed, away stunned, “Look at me, he's breathing.”

“Not well.”

“Breathing is still breathing.” Claire caught sight of the heart monitor, “He's still alive, see?”

“I shattered his rib cage. I, I didn't mean to, I just, panicked when you said PCP and he charged someone.”

“He's stable at least until we get him moved to surgery to fix the biggest mistake of his life,” Claire practically yelled at the man now watching them with a panicked expression. “Come on, let's take a break.”

“I didn't know I could do that.”

“Now you do, try to reign it in next time.”

“Shit, right... next time. I forget there's always a next time in this line of work.”

Claire handed him a coffee, “Yeah, that's what gets to people about this job. I'm sorry I called you in on that, usually the tasers down them. We couldn't get him sedated, nearly snapped someone's arm.”

“You didn't even know if it was PCP, coulda had interaction, you called it because it's the same thing, inhuman strength moments.”

“Doesn't help when they're a meathead to start with. How strong are you? You just, picked him up one handed and threw him on the table.”

“I... I don't know, I've, I've broken metal chains and- and my collar but I don't know.”

“You should, probably find that out.”

“Yeah, you're right, I should have before I started working with the public.”

“Not going to lie, you probably should have.”

“You getting paged?”

“Yeah.”

“Why aren't you answering?”

“Because, right now, they have surveillance and I've got a CNA that just out did their own security with a hostile individual, and you take precedence at the moment.”

“What if they can't fix his ribs, what if something... what if something happened in transport to surgery?”

Claire glared at her phone, “They want me to bring you with me.”

“I'm fired,” Michael sighed and shook his head, “This will look wonderful on my resume.”

“No, they want to go over what happened,” he blinked at the text -Get Michael in here with you, we can take care of this-

“They're going to spin this, aren't they?”

“They've done it before, at least this time it's for the right reason.”

“How's that?”

“Because you just broke his ribs, if you hadn't stopped him, the police would have, and they would have used deadly force.”

“I shattered his fucking rib cage! The longest point I could find was about 4 inches long and that was still attached to his spine!”

“Yeah, I know, come on.”

“I can see why medics are all on some kind of acid reflux meds now...”

Claire patted his shoulder as they headed into the office. “Here we go.”

Michael was getting a little annoyed at the chatter when the papers were shoved toward him, “What's this?”

“Your corrected records.”

“Corrected?”

“You have been relisted as Mutant, due to the- event.”

“I have always had Mutated under my records. I've hidden my appearance for the calm and well being for the patients, not for my own reasons.”

“Our records don't show that,” Michael was glaring at that look, it said 'play along'. “We need you to readmit your current Mutant status.”

“Hold on, let me show you something,” Michael took out his phone, “Jarvis, show my employment records please.”

“Of course, sir.” Michael held out the holographic paperwork. “Would you like me to enlarge them? It may tax your battery.”

“Eh, I've got 75% go for it.” Michael smiled as he knew Jarvis shifted the one he was looking for, “What does that line say?”

At least three people sat back, looking unamused, “Physical and genetic mutation, no X-gene found, genetic modification, forced/inflicted, stable and proven non-hostile mental status.”

“Thank you. Now, why don't we talk about how, yes, I fucked up. I was aware of it the moment I did it. I instantly reacted to correct the situation, and I am going to continue to correct this situation the moment I leave this building. And maybe throw in a safety protocol to engage in more than just a passing discussion of ability in those outside of what would be deemed “normal patient” and “normal care-er” status shall we? Because that patient should have had his spine crushed and unless he was a 1 in billions incident he should not have survived that long enough to be treated even in the ER.”

Claire was the saving light as she checked the patient's updated chart, “He, he had some healing factor. Surgeon said his ribs started healing nearly as soon as they got pieced back together, it wasn't drugs he was just that fucking strong. You stunned him long enough to get him under control. If you hadn't been there... shit, he's already awake, ranting and freaking out about he nearly killed a kid. Apparently he's got some psychological problems including schizophrenia, hallucinations, PTSD. He didn't know what set him off, he just... wasn't all there.”

“Do we know what he was brought in for?”

“Attempted suicide...” Claire dropped the paperwork back on the desk.

“He doing better?”

“He wants to see 'the little guy with a hell of a swing'.”

“He all there?”

“He's... he's the type that's never going to be 'all there' but he's, there.”

“I'd love to meet him,” Michael smiled, before shutting off his belt and glaring at the suddenly wide eyed panel, “And all this,” he waved at the faked papers, “Better disappear and never ever happen again, understood?”

He got three sets of panic nods, “Yeah, okay.”

Grinning, he turned his belt back on, “Good, have a nice night.”

“You sure you want to go against him again?”

“I'm the last person you should ask that to, I've been there, done worse, if that had been me in the ER, under a haze, there would have been no survivors.”

“Shit, I keep forgetting, you're not made of glass like some of the young staff.”

“Nope, working on Adamantium at this point.”

“Let me know when you hit Vibranium, I'll duck.”

Michael was chuckling then gulped when she knocked on the door, “Hey! There he is! Damn kid, you got a hell of an arm! Ever think about taking up baseball?”

Michael smiled, he was there... they can work with 'there'. “Not really my thing.”

“Well that sucks, you'd be awesome at it.”

“I've got this problem with moving objects and focusing sometimes.”

“You definitely hit like a Mac truck.”

“Apparently.”

That got a blink, “Don't tell me I'm the one that- did you just find out you were...”

“No, I knew, I just didn't know I could kill someone just hitting them too hard.”

“Well, anyone can do that! One good swing to the windpipe and out, done, no recovery.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, so, I'm sorry about earlier, I'm not even sure where I was then. I just, snapped back like some outa body experience gone fucked and there you were panicking about hitting me and saying my ribs were fucked. Musta been, jarring.”

“I meant to stun you and get you on the bed and restrained or sedated, I guess I just, forgot my strength.”

“I'm glad it was with me, not some poor bastard without the ability to heal.”

“So, what caused all this?”

He got a sigh, “Bad day. The boxes wouldn't shut up.”

“You're aware of your condition?”

He laughed, “Oh, fuck, am I aware, feel really lucid right now. What kinda mojo you packin' kid? Cause they shut the fuck up the moment I snapped back and aren't making a peep.”

“I, I told you to stop.”

He got a blink before laughter sounded, “God, kid, can I hire you?”

Michael shrugged, “I guess it depends on what for. I work part time and I go to school full time.”

“School? Shit, how old are you?”

“22,” Michael rolled his eyes at the humming, “So, bad day?”

“Butterfly effect?”

Michael nodded, “Yeah, I've witnessed that, a few times.”

“Oh, storytime?”

Michael smiled as he grabbed a chair, “If, if I hadn't met Claire, I wouldn't be here now.”

That giddy, happy bouncing stopped, “What? But, if you hadn't been here...”

“Yeah, so, even if it wasn't your butterfly effect, it was someone's.”

“Shit, I coulda fucked everybody all kindsa up. Shit... I need a drink.”

“Water and juice only here, but if you ask nice I'm sure I can get you a soda or coffee.”

“Any chance at a rum and coke?”

“High chance on the coca cola, not on the coke.”

“Fuck, thought you wouldn't catch that one.”

Michael smiled before his eyes softened, “Was it about your scars?”

He settled back, “They, they never shut up about my old carpet bag skin, so, kind of? It all just stacks up. Old, alone, never dying, always just, never quiet.”

“Are they bothering you now?”

He took a deep breath as he smiled and shook his head, “Right now, they're quiet, but then they always seem to be for awhile after an attempt.”

“You're probably going to have to deal with an arrest, but, take the reprieve while you can.”

“Seriously though, can I hire you? It's nice having such a long reprieve.”

“ I'm not sure if what I did was what worked on the, uh, boxes or not but I'll be around here or Claire will know how to call me if you need some backup.”

“Thanks, Doc, you're the best.” He was getting waved at.

“I'm just a CNA,” Michael smiled as he waved back at the grinning patient.

“Oh, right, wrong verse, my B.”

Michael tilted his head at Claire who just shrugged, “Yeah, well, I gotta get back on the floor.”

“Talk to you later!”

“What the fuck was that about?”

“I don't know, some precog abilities or something, I am working to being a doctor after all. Huh, wonder if the 'boxes' aren't actually a psychosis if that's true.”

Michael's head tilted back at the voice, “Welp, it's been fun folks but now's the time for exit stage left.” Claire looked at him in confusion when he winced at the sound of broken glass before he bolted back toward the room. “Catch ya later, Morbie.”

“Michael, what's... shit,” Claire ran to call the code, escaped patient... mother fucker went out the window.

Michael rubbed his eyes as he grabbed the chart, “Wade Wilson,” he'd have to remember that name.

 

 


End file.
